Guest Blog: Undead and Unsure – The 12 Days of Betsy from MaryJanice Davidson

Today we are glad to have MaryJanice Davidson stop by on her UNDEAD AND UNSURE Blog Tour: The 12 Days Of Betsy counting down to the release of UNDEAD AND UNSURE, the 12th book of her Undead series available August 6, 2013 from Berkley. During each day of the tour MaryJanice is revisiting the previous 11 books in the Undead series and giving us un-published experts from each book. Today’s excerpt is from UNDEAD AND UNSTABLE . Tomorrow, on the last day of the tour (August, 6, 2013) she will visit Tor.com where there will be several giveaways of UNDEAD AND UNSURE. Check out the bottom of the post for her tour stops!

UNDEAD AND UNSURE BLOG TOUR: THE 12 DAYS OF BETSY

The Hidden Excerpts by MaryJanice Davidson

From UNDEAD AND UNSTABLE, Book 11

(in which Betsy’s cat, Giselle, is found dead, and she and Sinclair are dragged to a no-kill pet shelter to look at other cats)

“No.” I didn’t even have to look around. We were in an entire room full of no.

“Indeed.” Sinclair was standing very still beside the door. It was as if he thought if he moved at all, even to venture further into the room, a dozen cats would mistake him for a tree and climb him. He hadn’t had much (anything?) to do with Giselle when she was alive; I couldn’t imagine he was anxious to take on another animal to ignore. “Why are we here?”

“Because you’re open-minded individuals with gobs of money and tons of spare room and it’s pretty selfish to keep it all to yourself when so many cats need homes like the poor cats here who live cheek and jowl with death!” Jessica had actually gone shriekey at the last part. If she didn’t take a breath soon, she’d keel over. Like I needed that hassle.

“This is a no-kill pet shelter,” my husband observed. “These animals are in no danger. They are cheek and jowl only with Tender Vittles.”

“I’m almost positive I don’t.” The room was, it must be said, crawling with cats. Although it was the front office of the shelter, with desks and a computer and a cash register and the like, cats were sleeping or prowling or wrestling or staring on virtually every surface. Never had I been more grateful about not needing to breathe; there was enough hair and dander in the air to make someone not allergic sneeze their brains out. “Yep. I’ve thought about it: positive I don’t.”

“As am I.” Sinclair started to turn to leave.

“Hey!”

He froze. I froze. None of the cats gave a crap; they kept doing cat-stuff.

“Now you listen.”

“We are!” I promised, terrified.

“I went to the trouble of setting up an appointment for you guys—“

“We owe you no courtesy for an appointment made against our will and without our consultation.”

Wow! Sinclair must really be hating it in here, because he normally took care not to cross Jess—pregnant Jessica—so openly.

“You both need this,” she insisted, stabbing her unpolished fingernail in our direction. (She’d given up manis, pedis, sushi, and other stuff that had about a 1 in 972,000,000,000 chance of harming The Fetus. Oh, and the pregnancy hormones? Were not her friend. Were not anyone’s friend.) “I’m telling you, Giselle’s death left a void.”

“Was that it’s name?” Sinclair asked politely.

“You see?” she cried. “You’re so detached from life you can’t remember your wife’s pet!”

“Not an it,” I corrected. “A she. Giselle the cat.”

He inclined his head. “And so?”

“You need to fill the void. I know you’ll say this is some pregnancy thing,” she added, cradling her gravid belly—like that? Gravid? Sinclair used it and I looked it up—and probably not even realizing it. “But it’s not. It’s just a need to make sure everyone around me is also fulfilled by new life.”

“There’s something familiar about this,” I muttered, looking around the office o’cats.

“No there isn’t.”

“I’m sure there is.” Was it the cats? The computer? The overwhelming litter box stench? The dozens of indifferent cats who literally didn’t give a shit if we lived or died? Wait! There it was! “This is how I got stuck with Giselle! You made it happen and then I was stuck feeding her for years and she paid me back by getting me run over!”

“You’re remembering it wrong.”

“Oh dear,” my husband murmured. “Was that how you came to be a reluctant pet owner?”

“Damn right!” I glared at my “best” friend. “This is a pregnancy thing, I’m not falling for it again, adopt your own cat, we’re leaving.”

“I just fell in love with you all over again,” Sinclair sighed, putting a hand over his cold, dead heart.

“Betsy, wait,” Jessica pleaded. “If you’ll just give it a—aw, nuts.”

A grizzled one-eyed cat was clearly wondering if my shoes were edible because he’d crept closer and closer until he was hunched over my feet and licking the toes. Of my shoes.

My shoes.

(my shoes!!!!!!!!!)

“We’re out of here!” I almost-screamed. Sinclair, always courteous, moved to open the door for me but I zoomed past him so fast I nearly knocked myself unconscious on it. A small price to pay to save my shoes from cat spit.

My shoes! Never. Ohhh, never.

We left, never to return.

Catching up on your Betsy-lore? Be sure to check out more exclusive excerpts from the series throughout The 12 Days of Betsy!

August 6, Day 12: Tor.com(Giveaway: UNDEAD AND UNSURE, released August 6th!)

MaryJanice Davidson is the bestselling author of several books, most recently Undead and Unsure (out August 6th, 2013), Undead and Unstable, Undead and Undermined, Undead and Unfinished, Undead and Unwelcome, and Dead Over Heels. With her husband, Anthony Alongi, she also writes a series featuring a teen weredragon named Jennifer Scales. MaryJanice lives in Minneapolis with her husband and two children.

Description:

It’s no surprise to Betsy that her trip to Hell with her sister Laura landed them in hot water. Betsy isn’t exactly sorry she killed the Devil but it’s put Laura in a damnable position: assuming the role of Satan (she may not have the training but she looks great in red)—and in charge of billions of souls as she moves up in the world. Or is that down?

But Betsy herself is in an odd new position as well—that of being a responsible monarch suddenly in charge of all things more earth-bound: like her vampire husband Sinclair who has gone from relieved to ecstatic to downright reckless now that he can tolerate sunlight. And if Sinclair isn’t enough to contend with, Betsy’s best friend Jessica is in her sixth (and hopefully last) trimester. Considering she’s been pregnant for eighteen months, she’s become a veritable encyclopedia of what not to expect when you’re expecting. Oh, the horror…

And speaking of growing pains, Betsy and Sinclair’s adopted little BabyJon is finally starting to walk. And if the increasingly unpredictable toddler is anything like his extended family, precisely where he’s headed is anyone’s guess.

donnas

Alaina B.

MaryJanice Davidson

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